Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

mean losing everything that made her special. And two weeks to teach himself to let go, to put Charlie first.

This time he wasn’t going to let her down.

CHAPTER NINE

‘MATTEO, WE’RE GOING to be late!’ Charlie called for probably the third time in as many minutes. ‘Come on, you haven’t seen intimidating until you have faced an entire room of dance parents. It’s bad enough that I am turning up as the unknown English girl; I don’t want to be late as well.’

This week was full of irony. It was usually Matteo who was strictly punctual and Charlie who had a more fluid attitude towards time. But not where her work was concerned. Maybe that was part of her problem. She didn’t like to be too serious so maybe Matteo had just never realised how important her work was to her, how very much she had invested her time and emotions in the Kensington gala.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ He exited the study and her heart gave the same painful yet pleasurable jolt it always did upon seeing him. You’d think that a year and a bit after meeting him she’d have got used to seeing him, but somehow her body always seemed to turn into an overeager puppy at the very sight of him.

And, to be fair, he was looking particularly delectable today, still holiday casual, but slightly smarter than he’d been all week in a white linen shirt and grey tailored trousers. She could always tell that Matteo was half Italian by the way he dressed, with a certain flair that most Englishmen lacked. His dark hair was a little longer than usual and freshly slicked back and he had decided against shaving that morning. She reached up to rub the stubble on his chin affectionately.

‘How did it go?’ she asked. After they’d returned to Ravello she’d handed over all Matteo’s electronic devices with an apology for the subterfuge. She’d waited for him to lose himself in work despite Jo’s promises to filter emails but, to her surprise, he’d managed to keep his work down to a couple of hours over the last two days. But today he’d called his grandfather and had been closeted in the study since breakfast.

He groaned. ‘It was fine. I think, underneath it all, he is glad that I’m alive and well and recovered. But he is clearly frustrated that I’m not going straight back to work.’ He smiled at her. ‘I told him that I was owed this time and everything is in good hands.’ But, although the words were positive, she could see the very real exasperation beneath the smile. His grandfather always knew exactly which buttons to press and liked to push down on them hard.

‘And he sounds fine?’ She knew how much he worried about his grandfather’s health.

‘He talked at me nonstop for ninety minutes so I’ll say so.’ He pulled back and gave her a full once-over, whistling long and low. ‘You look very professional.’

‘The ballet world is very particular,’ she said slightly defensively, reaching up to touch the loose bun she’d piled her hair into. Maybe the leggings, short wrap skirt and cut-off cardigan were a little bit of a costume, but Charlie always felt better in a costume. ‘I need to look the part.’

‘I do believe you’re nervous,’ he said in obvious surprise and she could feel her cheeks flush.

‘If it was drama or jazz or musical theatre I’d be fine. I know it’s silly. I’ve been teaching ballet up to Grade Four for years and most of these kids won’t be anywhere near there yet, but you can’t cover up a bad port de bras with personality the way you can a jazz square, and these kids have been taught by the best.’

‘I have no idea what you just said but it sounds terrifying.’

‘Welcome to my world,’ she said darkly, grabbing her bag and tablet containing the videos Natalia had sent her and her favourite music to teach to.

Maria was in residence so they didn’t have to lock up, setting off up the driveway in a companionable silence as they trod the now familiar path to the village below. Charlie’s mind was whirling as she went over all her preparation. She’d start with a warm-up of course, some barre work and then centre exercises before the actual rehearsal. Natalia had combined several grades together into larger groups, so thankfully she only needed to deal with three classes. The rest of the gala would be composed of demonstrations by a handful of professionals Natalia had studied or danced with and some of her older students who’d gone on to study at specialist institutions. None of that was any of Charlie’s concern, to her great relief. Lucia and a couple of her friends were responsible for the venue, programme and ensuring all the guest dancers were met and looked after. No, Charlie’s responsibilities were limited to looking after and preparing the fifty local children who would be taking part in the gala. Easy.

‘It seems like a lot of work,’ Matteo mused as they finally exited the villa gates and made their way towards the footpath that cut out the need to use the longer and less sheltered road down to Ravello.

‘What does?’ Charlie asked, jolted out of her thoughts.

‘The gala. I agree it’s a really good cause but it seems such an inefficient way of raising money. Many of the people around here have more than enough money to help dozens of charities. I don’t understand why they don’t just hold a benefit, serve some drinks and food, get this famous dancer to perform, bid on some nice items and write some cheques. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than trying to organise so many children. Rehearsals and costumes and fifty kids aged under fifteen? Seems like a recipe for disaster to me.’

‘Someone still has to actually organise a benefit,’ Charlie pointed out. ‘Book a venue, sell the tickets, organise the caterers, find those auction items.